No Smoking in the Breezeway
by katimonius REX
Summary: [Title not relevant to the story.] Dean is dead. It's exactly what Sam has been dreading; a life without his big brother is impossible. Unfathomable. But despite his best efforts, Dean Winchester isn't out of the game just yet. Destiel. Angel!Dean. IT'S SO FLUFFY.


A shot rang out through the trees of a forest in northeastern Pennsylvania. A flock of birds flew out from the higher branches, startled from their preening by the sudden noise. This was hardly the first time that one of the Winchester boys had been shot; for Sam, it might not even be the last. But this time was different. This time there was betrayal. This time there was death. This was a whole different ballgame that even they, the infamous Winchesters, could not have prepared for.

As the second shot rang out, Dean gasped and dropped to one knee. He lifted his shaking hands and slid them over his shirt, seeking the the bullets' entrance point in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Dean was all too familiar with how gunshot wounds ended for him and his brother, but he refused to consider it a possibility - not this time. He thought he faintly heard Sam calling, but the sound of his own cough muffled the noise, and the blood that dribbled from his lips distracted him from paying much attention to anything else. He really just couldn't help it.

He would wish that he had.

Because a smooth southern drawl from nearby drew his gaze up and made his eyes narrow.

"I'm sorry things had to end this way."

Dean scowled in disgust and spat his own blood on the leaf scattered ground.

"I'm surprised," He said; his voice was ragged and harsh, as though he was winded. With a grunt of pain he pushed hard on his thigh, hissing through his teeth as he got to his feet. He swayed, just for a moment, his fingers curled into a fist over the spot where the bullet went in, but his voice was stronger; or maybe just more irritated. "I didn't think gunplay was really your style."

Benny stepped just a pace closer, the gun he had used to shoot Dean in the hand that hung loosely at his side. His expression was shrouded by his newsboy hat, the hat that Dean had casually commented on on more than one occasion, but he could see a glint in his eye that made him wary. Benny smirked, tilting the hat up slightly with a crooked finger.

"Even with death knockin' on your door, you can't seem to manage to drop that snarky attitude. Only you, Dean."

"With death lookin' you in the face, you should be dropping to your knees and begging for mercy." Dean bit back, as if purposely proving his point.

Benny chuckled, raising the gun. Slowly his smile vanished, replaced with a look of grim determination. "I'm sorry, brother. I'm gonna miss that. I really am."

Before Dean had time to react, Benny had pulled the trigger on him again, his stomach taking the impact this time. His mouth made a very clear "O" as he hit the ground on his knees, a strangled noise coming from his throat as both of his hands instantly clutched at the fresh wound. He watched Benny walk forward several paces, but he didn't make it the rest of the way.

One minute his head was attached, the next it was gone. Sam had come from behind with a machete, which was now completely covered with Benny's blood. The vampire's body slumped forward onto the damp ground, but Sam had already dropped his weapon and run over to his wounded brother. Benny was very soon forgotten.

"Dean! Dean, are you with me?" He clutched Dean's shoulder and shook him, ducking sideways to look in his eyes. "Dean?"

Dean was tightly gripping his blood soaked shirt, rocking with small convulsions. "S-sorry, S-Sammy." He whispered through his teeth. "But what the..." He gulped down hard, "...the hell were you doing while I was getting shot at?"

Sam flushed red as he pried his brothers' blood soaked fingers away from his new gunshot wound. "Dean, I'm sorry, but, he...well...he tied me up."

In as terrible a state as he was, Dean could still manage to roll his eyes. "What else is...is new?"

Sam looked at the amount of blood that surrounded Dean from all sides and frowned. This wasn't the first time they had had to deal with such an injury, but it didn't make it any easier; and this was worse than they were used to. He sighed and pulled off his jacket, and began unbuttoning his shirt. Dean raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Sammy, what are you doing? This...ow...isn't some kind of bad fan fiction."

Sam shook the shirt off of his broad, muscular shoulders. "Dean, I have to put pressure on these or you're going to bleed out any second." He ripped the fabric into strips and tied them together, making several longer pieces. Without waiting for permission he slipped the fabric around his brother's back and yanked them quickly around the wound, eliciting a cry of pain.

"Geez...Sam...don't be...gentle..." Dean gasped out, his vision blurring as he gripped the ground for balance.

"Sorry," Sam said apologetically, pulling the next one around and managing to be slightly less rough. But with each knot tied the blood flowed faster, soaking each new strip while Dean became more and more dizzy, his vision fading in and out.

"Sam...Sam, I don't think I can...stay awake for much longer...my head's spinning like a...like a bitch..."

Sam shook his head, "No, Dean. Come'on, stay with me. Please-"

But just as the words slipped out of his lips, his brother slipped out of his hands and hit the blood soaked ground.

"No."

Sam crawled over to Dean and immediately shook him, grabbing his coat collar and pulling up from the ground in an attempt to get him up again.

"Dean, don't you dare die on me again. Dean, get up. Get up right now. "

No response. Sam shook him violently, tears streaming down his cheeks as he screamed his brother's name at the top of his lungs. This was the last straw. He dropped Dean back onto the ground, hard, and did nothing but stare for a long time. Sam had seen his brother die hundreds of times - both literally and figuratively - but it didn't stop the ache from building up in his chest. No matter how many times he watched Dean go, he couldn't make the pain go away.

He wiped the tears away from his cheeks and looked around, and idea striking him. He stood up suddenly, calling out. "Cas! Cas, I need you. Get down here!"

And he waited.

When he got no response for several minutes, he scowled. "Cas, Dean is dead. I need you. NOW. Get. Down. Here."

Still nothing.

By this time, Sam was seething. Cas would have come if Dean called. He would have been there in an instant. But if you asked Sam, he would say that as soon as the angel heard his voice, he flew for the hills.

Little did he know that Cas was right there with him, watching.

Waiting.

Sam turned and, in one final act of violence, kicked the trunk of a nearby tree and screamed out. This seemed to deteriorate the last of his anger, though tears still rolled down his cheeks, and he did nothing to stop them. Without another protest he grabbed his jacket off of the ground and zipped it up, pushing his hands deeply into his pockets.

He stood over Dean's bloodied body, unsure of what he should do with it or where he should go. He was without a home, without a family, without a friend. For the first time in a long time, Sam was lost.

* * *

"Cas? What the hell is going on?" The first person Dean had laid eyes on when he appeared out of nowhere was Cas. He was standing back amidst the trees, invisible to anyone else looking, and walked toward the premonition of his closest friend - who was only a few feet away from his body.

"Dean, I'm glad you've finally come. I was getting worried that I would have to come and get you myself."

Cas was looking at him strangely, in a way that made Dean both confused and slightly uncomfortable, so he coughed and averted his eyes, looking around the forest until he laid an anxious eye on his own body- and his brother.

"What's going on here? One minute I'm heading toward that beautiful pie shop in the sky, and the next you're yanking me down here to watch Sammy mourn over my corpse." He looked at Cas with slight resentment, "Again."

Cas looked at Sam as well, for a brief moment, before turning his attention back to Dean, "I'm sorry, Dean, but it had to be done. I have orders. I need you to come with me."

Of all of the stupid things Cas could have told him, Dean thought that was pretty high up there. "Cas, that's great and all, but you don't think it'll be a little tough flying a GHOST around? Hm? Didn't even cross your mind?"

"No." Cas said bluntly, unphased as he put out his arm for Dean to touch. Dean looked at Sam longingly, hesitant to leave his brother. He could get in the impala with him - haunt his ass for causing him so much trouble all the time. Sam would like that if he knew.

"I wouldn't allow that, even if I didn't have other plans for you, Dean."

Dean's head swiveled to look at a softened Cas, who still held out his arm patiently. Dean scowled. "Other plans? Okay. Listen here. I've gone along with your angel schemes before, Cas, and I have to say, they've never really done much for me. So If you're dragging my ghostly ass into something, I want to know what."

"Just trust me. It isn't what you think." He put out his arm just a little farther, egging Dean to move forward and take it. And Dean, for his part, stood torn between the two; the living and the...well, the angelic. Eventually he gave a grunt of irritation and moved forward, grabbing Cas's arm. When their hands accidentally touched on the way out, they both apologized and turned their heads, but neither of them shied away.

* * *

Sam stood for a while longer over Dean, at least an hour, until he felt like there was nothing more that he could do. He didn't want to take the body into the impala, (The blood would kill the apolstry. At least, that's what Dean would have told him.) and anyway, there was nowhere to take it. He had no money for a proper grave, no family to call for help. He was alone. So without even thinking much on it, Sam planned to do the only thing he really could. He went to get a shovel.

But he had barely pulled the first bit of earth from the ground before a blinding while light sent him reeling back and covering his eyes. Instinctively he pulled out his gun and squinted into it, though he didn't shoot. He shielded his eyes more heavily and peered in, eventually noting the outline of a figure standing there, although he couldn't make out a face. He squinted in an attempt to uncover the mystery, and when he thought he could make out a familiar set of features he called out tentatively, "Cas?"

But just as suddenly as it appeared, the light vanished, leaving a blinded and confused Sam to wonder what exactly was happening. And if that weren't enough to leave him dumbfounded, when he looked down at the ground at his feet, he noted the disappearance of Dean's body.

The blood remained, the leaves still stained around where the body had been, but Dean was nowhere to be found. Sam's initial instinct was to turn and call out to him, and eventually he began wandering through the trees. Whoever had done this would pay.

"Dean!" He called out desperately, praying for help to come. For anyone to come.

"Hey there, Sammy."

Sam stopped moving immediately. He was tempted to pull his gun back out, but instead he just rested his hand on the handle and turned, slowly, to face whoever it was using his brother's voice. But when he turned he was all the more concerned to see Dean, recently bullet ridden, murdered Dean, standing in front of him. Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"No. Just…no way."

Dean just raised an eyebrow as Sam ran both of his hands through his long, thick locks. "Dean, I know we have a history of coming back after this sort of thing, but...no. Was it Cas? Because honestly, that's pretty damn impressive if it was."

Dean smiled and shook his head a little. "Cas didn't do this, Sam." He looked his younger brother straight in the eyes and said, with absolute seriousness, "God did."

Sam stood staring at his brother, and very slowly noted subtle changes that hadn't been present in him before. The bullet wounds were gone, though his clothes were still in rags from the shots. There were no bags under his eyes, his hair no longer damp with blood and sweat. He looked...he looked _good._ Better than he had seen him in years. It made Sam happy enough that a small laugh escaped his lips and he walked the short distance between them for a quick clap on the back.

"Dean, that's...that's amazing. Let's get on the road, you can tell me about it then."

Sam turned to go to the Impala, pulling the keys from his pants pocket, but Dean grabbed his arm to stop him. "Sam, hold on. I can't go with you."

Sam frowned and turned back again, looking at Dean with confusion. "What are you talking about?" He gave a small chuckle. "Dean, there isn't exactly anywhere for you to go." He motioned to the trees around him.

"Sam..." Dean looked too sympathetic for Sam's taste, "I can't go with you because I'm an angel."

Sam stared for a full minute at his brother, whose face was inexplicably stern. "Dean...you cannot be serious right now." When he didn't say anything Sam laughed, shaking his head and walking the other way. "You're being ridiculous. Let's go"

Sam turned to walk back to the impala once again, but didn't make it more than a few steps before he had to stop. Because Dean had stood in front of him so fast, he had nearly jumped out of his skin. The appearance was instantaneous. Without warning. It was...it was just like what Cas did to them day in and day out.

"Dean...I..." Sam leaned hard against a tree and took several deep breaths, "...an angel?"

Dean smirked and pushed him aside. "Yup. God's bitch. So I won't be going anywhere with you. Sorry Sammy. I got big boy angel shit to take care of."

"Dean, I-"

Dean immediately shook his head. "Sammy, don't. You can carry on without me. You have before, you will again. We'll both be fine. Besides, I'll still drop by; when you least expect it."

Sam tried to say something else, but Dean was already gone. He left Sam standing alone in the middle of the forest, the keys to his prized car loosely in his hand. This time was different, though. Accepting Dean's death was one thing. But knowing he was (technically, sort of) alive, that he wouldn't be dying anytime soon, and that he would be with Cas, gave Sam a strength and joy that actually made him smile. He gave the keys a little toss in his hands and started towards the impala, deciding on where to start; he could go just about anywhere, after all. There was no need to settle. Not yet.

Dean and Cas stood side by side and watched as Sam climbed in the drivers seat, listening to the Impala roar to life. As Sam pulled away through the path they had made on arrival, Dean turned to look at Cas.

"So now what, boss?"

Cas didn't turn, just stared at the leaves that Sam had stirred up as he left. "Now we get to work. We have a lot to do."

Dean immediately rolled his eyes, swinging his arms and clapping his hands. On an out swing he accidentally hit Cas's hand, but rather than pull away, Cas quickly snatched it up and gripped tight. His expression didn't change and his eyes didn't shift away, although a slight blush did creep across across his cheeks and down his neck.

A moment of awkward silence passed between them, although Dean didn't pull away before he asked, "Uhm...Cas, what are you doing?"

Cas didn't answer right away, just holding Dean's hand tightly and staring at the leavings blowing in the wind. Eventually he turned his head to look at Dean and, after deciding that he had come upon a reasonable answer, said, "What I want."

And without warning he leaned forward and kissed Dean hard on the lips, taking him completely aback. But despite his disbelief, he didn't stop. He didn't want it to stop. But when they did, for the first time since he could remember, a real, true smile came on Dean Winchester's face. And Cas, the stone angel, blushed crimson and coughed in embarrassment.

"Ahem...we should...ah...we should go."

Dean nodded his head and scratched the back of his head, though Cas refused to let go of his hand. "Yeah, we should. Probably."

Cas smiled slightly. He was about to zip away, but he stopped himself before he did.

"I love you, Dean."

He gave him a swift kiss on the cheek and flew away, leaving Dean alone and stunned. Eventually he grinned and laughed out loud, like a schoolgirl with a crush, and flew on after him.


End file.
